I have never felt more confident of who I am as I do now at age 41. That doesn’t mean that life is going my way. In fact, the last two weeks have been incredibly challenging. This pressure must have been necessary because it has taught me a few important lessons.
What do you think a 12-year-old player would have to do to be kicked off a softball team? What if the player did nothing wrong, but it was actually something done by the parent? What would it take: punching another parent, cursing, failing to pay the required fees? Two weeks ago, the coach of my daughter’s travel ball team called my wife and asked her if she was talking about the way he coaches. He said he heard my wife was saying that he was wrong for playing his daughter so much. She said she had said those things, to which he replied she was a bad influence on the team. He said as a result of her actions, our daughter was off the team. My wife was crushed.
My wife, my daughter, and I were all angry and confused. Sports are supposed to teach you that hard work pays off, yet the lesson we learned was that life is not fair. My wife was hurt because she had no chance to redeem herself. I was hurt because I took professional quality pictures at games and posted them for free. My daughter took pitching lessons and worked hard at practice so she could play more often. She realized it was up to her, not us, to earn her spot in the field. Unfortunately, the clear lesson learned is that the coach favors his daughter, even when she performs poorly. I know it is hard to stay objective when your own child is involved, and I don’t totally fault him for favoring her. However, my wife said what others were whispering: if he wanted to win games, the “sideline coaches” think he was blind to one of the team’s weaknesses.
I don’t blame him for being angry or even hurt by my wife’s words. I know he loves his daughter very much and wants the best for her. Although many parents were frustrated by the way he favored his daughter, we understood his motives and realized that complaining was as far as it would go. However, I am disappointed with how he handled criticism; he saw it as dissent, and crushed it with an iron fist. What happened to talking things out and thinking about how others feel? These kids aren’t on the Olympic team. They are 12-year-olds who want to get better and have parents willing to sacrifice time and money to help them. If my wife was disrespectful for what she said about him, his response did not show he deserved respect, only fear. Throughout all of this, I tried to be the better person because I had a lot happening in my life. My daughter’s dismissal was only one more thing I had to deal with.
For the past month or more, my family was immersed in travel ball. It’s very expensive, and there were a few weekends where we left Friday and did not return until Sunday afternoon. It took a toll on us. We were tired. We worried about money, and my wife and I had trouble finding time for each other because our weeks were busy with practices. I was beginning to reach a breaking point when I got a phone call out the blue about a friend, Bill Berger. I was told I needed to see him right away because he only had a week to live. I hadn’t seen this man since last July when he and I went to the track to race my car, but I always thought we would get together soon. My time had run out.
What do you say to someone who is dying? I had never done it before. Sure there were some grandparents that died. I’ve been to funerals. But I had never visited someone with the intention of saying goodbye… forever. When I walked in, Bill was happy to see me, just like any other time. I talked with his parents about the weather, his dog, and drag racing while the Hospice person organized the details of his last days of life beside us. It was surreal. When it was my time, he and I talked about nothing important. I told Bill I didn’t know what to say. He told me to just say what I want. So I knelt down, held his hand, looked him in the eye and told him that I wonder about what is on the other side, and, if he were able, could he somehow let me know. I gave him something to do after he died. I guess I was saying I hoped to hear from him soon, even though I figured I wouldn’t be.
While I was shooting my daughter’s softball game 3 days later, I got a call that he had died. I was in the dugout at the time, and my daughter could tell what the call was about. She hugged me and asked if I was all right. I told her I wasn’t, but I would be okay. I didn’t want to disturb the coach or the team with my troubles, so I fought back the tears.
It was two days later when we got the call that my daughter was kicked off her team because the coach was insulted. My family was exhausted, my friend had died, and now the coach was angry because my wife questioned his authority? Seriously? The next few days were filled with anger and sadness, but the struggle revealed something important to me. Life is for the living, and we were not going to let a cowardly decision rule our lives. It was time to put first things first. First, we are family. If my wife and family cannot be part of something together, then it’s not worth it. Second, we needed to put more focus on finishing up my daughter’s Hebrew school and going to synagogue. Unfortunately, God came second to tournaments. Finally, we needed to realize that sports are something you do for fun. Softball is not the ultimate goal. I sat down with my daughter and explained a few things to her. I told her I do not expect her to be a softball player when she grows up. I would like her to go to college and get a degree, preferably teaching. I don’t expect her to get a scholarship because we will find a way to pay for the education she needs. I told her she will look back at her time in softball fondly, but in the end, it is just something we do for fun. This team took the fun out of the game we loved.
There have been a number of painful moments in my life where I look back and realize I have grown. I won’t say that I handled by daughter’s removal from the team perfectly, but I think I was pretty mature. I quickly saw who was right and who was wrong instead of focusing on anger or revenge. And even when I saw that how we were treated was not fair, the wisdom I have learned over the years helped me to move on: Treat others better than you want to be treated, Life is for the living, Put first things first. Finally, get the pain out. Talk to people, which is what I am doing here. Maybe there is a lesson in here for someone else.
